I write a lot things that I don't publish. I am my own worst editor. It's never done, never quite what I wanted to say. Sometimes I think of one clever line and I can't surround it with a suitable supporting cast, so I'll stop writing altogether.
I'll probably read this exact paragraph over and over again, until my eyes bleed. Editing is like an unraveling thread for me, I'll try to fix the sweater, but end up with a heap of yarn in my hands. Life is like that sometimes. I try to do everything right and mess the whole thing up.
Ann Patchett says this about writing:
"Only a few of us are going to be willing to break our own hearts by trading the living beauty of imagination for the stark disappointment of words. This is why we type a line of two and then hit the delete button or crumble up the page. Certainly that was not what I meant to say! That does not represent what I see. Maybe I should try again another time. Maybe the Muse has stepped out back for a smoke."
Later in the essay, Patchett acquits writing to plucking a butterfly from her mind and killing it on the page. Looking through all my unpublished blog posts is like looking at my collection of dead butterflies. I'll open one up and run the other way, because I can't deal, so I'll write something else to abandon.
I didn't make any New Years resolutions for 2014, but maybe this year I will get the courage to show you all my dead butterflies. It may not be pretty, but at least it is honest.
My husband Rob and I are thinking about moving. We have called this place home for 8 years and for all of my house/baby lust, the truth is I don't want to leave. If and when we leave, I know I will cry. Rob and I built our family here.
I was told never to get emotionally attached to "property", but I just can't manage that, so I haven't even tried. I pray that even when we do move, we can keep it. Rent it to a nice couple with cats and come back in our old age.
House stalking continues.
This English Country Revival House is the reason I play the lotto. The reason I work my little buns off. One day English Country Revival House, one day...
When I started blogging (way back in ol' 2009) I was blogging about flowers and just finding my way post college. Then I bought a fancy camera after accidentally flinging my trusty point and shoot off of the balcony to the pavement below. It was toast.
When I got my big girl camera, I took a community college class and learned how to actually use it. That was turning point for me as a person. I had taken photography in high school, but something clicked when I started art directing photo shoots. It feels right, just like this English Country Revival house.
Don't you love this little Portland Bungalow?!
I am completely in love with this shady porch laced with Wisteria (currently not in bloom). Can't you just see yourself shelling peas, knitting a scarf or some other matronly grandma approved activity on this porch?
I found this darling little Bungalow on a summer stroll. These late Summer days have been particularly fine in Portland. Walking around different neighborhoods in town and "window shopping" for homes is one of my favorite hobbies. Taking out the camera and snapping a few images is new ground for me. It is hard not to feel like a goon or a creepo, but I am just going for it.
Dream house shopping again.
I have been admiring this house from afar for quite sometime. This English Revival / Tudor style house is two doors down from my parent's home. Many a time have I craned my neck into uncomfortable angles to get a glimpse of this classic beauty obscured from view by Evergreens and a protective wrought iron gate.
A few weeks back, an estate sale was advertised at the house and like a bouncing ball, I made my way over to the property to snoop around. I was beyond excited to step beyond the veil of my imagination and take a look around.